To Save You
by JailyForever
Summary: In an effort to prevent her death, Neville continuously travels back in time to key events to change her fate. The most recent time is her wedding day. Will he finally accept that you cannot change the past?


**Team:** Holyhead Harpies

 **Position** : Keeper

 **Prompt** : Fixed Timeline (no matter what you do in the past, the future will always remain the same)

 **Word Count:** 1494

 **Please Note:** I do not in any way condone drink driving/driving whilst over the limit

* * *

To Save You

You're back again! It's not at all unexpected—you've travelled back almost a dozen times already, hoping beyond hope that you can somehow change the past to fix the present.

Every time you fail, and every time you try again, but nothing you do will ever work, and in refusing to accept the irreversible events, you are depriving yourself of the destiny that awaits you—of the great love that will find you in time.

First, you went back to the night she died, trying in vain to prevent those terrible events that unfolded, and every time since then you have travelled back to an earlier point in time.

This time, you have chosen her wedding day—the day she vowed to love, honour and obey the man who would eventually take her life.

Sooner or later, Neville, you're going to have to realise you cannot change the past. The timeline is not malleable.

~o~o~o~

It's the morning of her wedding day. You wake up, as you have so many times before in the body of your younger self. You jump out of your bed and stumble, feeling the effects of the hangover you had that day after drinking yourself into oblivion and passing out fully clothed on your bed.

You walk over to the mirror and stare at your reflection. Your blond hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction possible, and slightly greasy from not being washed in nearly two weeks. Your blue eyes are bloodshot from crying, and you have dark circles under them. You raise your arm and smell yourself, and recoil from the scent. You realise what a bad place you were in at this point in your life as you lower your arm. You groan as run your hands down your face.

"Come on," you mutter to yourself. "Pull yourself together, Longbottom. You have a wedding to stop."

As always, you know time is of the essence. You only have a few hours in your younger self's body before you will be pulled from it and returned to the present.

You walk through your cluttered apartment to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water and take two paracetamol, before taking a shower and getting changed into your best suit and tie. You want to look your best when you see her in her figure hugging white wedding dress, instead of the drunken mess you were when you stumbled into the church carrying a half empty bottle of scotch whiskey slurring: "I object" as she was halfway through her vows. The look of pity and contempt she gave you is burned in your memory and you never want to see it again.

You put your coat on and look at your car keys on top of the chest of drawers in your living room. You are having an internal debate on whether you should drive. You know you are well above the legal limit—the first time you lived this day, you got arrested and three points on your licence as you drove back from the church after she rejected you. You were lucky no one got injured. On the other hand, you are in a better place than you were and you haven't continued drinking like you did that day.

After a moment's hesitation, you pick your car keys up and leave your apartment. You are confident you won't make the same mistake twice.

~o~o~o~

Half an hour later, you pull into a parking space on the hotel car park. You look at your watch—the wedding doesn't start for another hour. You climb out of your car, knowing that she will be in her hotel room as she finishes getting ready for her wedding day.

You run as fast as you can across the car park, into the hotel reception and towards the lift. As you press the button to call the elevator, you realise you have no idea which room she is in—last time you didn't arrive in time to catch her before she left for the church.

You race over to the reception desk and slam your hand down on the little bell three times. You tap your foot impatiently as the receptionist slowly makes her way over.

"Hannah Abbott!" you exclaim. "Which room is she in? I'm a friend."

The receptionist types on her keyboard at an excruciatingly slow rate. "Today would be nice."

"You!" a voice snarls from behind. You turn around and see Justin Finch-Fletchley—the man you blame for everything that has gone wrong in your life. Everything from the break down of your relationship with Hannah to her eventual death—there is no doubt in your mind that he is the cause.

Your blood boils at the sight of him. You take two steps towards him, closing the distance between you as your hand curls into a fist and punch him. He falls to the ground with a thud, and you smile with satisfaction.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" her sweet voice says from behind you.

You turn around and Hannah is standing there looking as beautiful as you remember her in her wedding dress.

"I—I'm sorry," you stammer, rushing over to her and taking her hands in yours. "Please don't marry him. He'll be the death of you."

She pulls her hands from yours and walks around you to her fiance's side.

"No, but you will be," she says sadly, helping him to his feet. "When will you realise that I don't want you? I don't love you, Neville. If I'm honest, I don't think I ever did."

You don't want to believe her, but you can hear it in her voice. She means every word, and you can feel your heart breaking all over again as she leaves you standing there alone in the reception area.

You refuse to give up though. She may not want to be with you, but you will find a way to stop the wedding from happening and in doing so save her life.

Knowing you won't be able to talk to her in her hotel room, you exit the hotel and walk across the road to the supermarket, buy yourself a bottle of whiskey and take it back to your car. You stare at the bottle in your hand as you unscrew the lid. You tell yourself you're just going to have a couple of mouthfuls for dutch courage—you know your next and last opportunity to stop the wedding will be in the church, and you still have vivid memories of how terrible it went last time.

~o~o~o~

The bottle of whiskey is half gone as you climb out of the car. The church is a short walk down the street, and the entire wedding party left five minutes ago.

You stumble into the side of the car as you close the door behind you, and your vision blurs slightly. You take another drink from the bottle of whiskey as your destination comes into sight.

You put the bottle of whiskey down at the church doors, and straighten your tie as you give yourself a pep talk.

"This is it," you tell yourself. "You have to stop the wedding."

You push the church door open and slip inside. She's stood at the altar, holding hands with Justin as she says her wedding vows. Your mouth goes dry as you stumble down the aisle towards them.

"I object!" you shout, slurring your words. "Hannah, don't marry him. He'll kill you."

A pair of arms grab you from behind and pull you from the church. The last thing you see before you're thrown onto the ground outside is of Hannah looking at you with pity and contempt on her face.

"Do yourself a favour, mate, go home and sober up," someone tells you as you struggle to your feet.

When you turn around, the person who dragged you from the church is gone but the bottle of whiskey is still there by the door. Shrugging your shoulders, you pick it up and have another drink. You seem to have finally resigned yourself to the fact that you can't change the past.

You stumble and stagger back to your car and climb in. You drain the remaining contents of the bottle of whiskey, and throw it onto the back seat before driving off.

You only get halfway down the road before you swerve to avoid a cat and crash into a lampost. The last thing you hear before you are pulled from your past self's body is the sound of police sirens in the distance.

~o~o~o~

You wake up in the present next to the framed photograph of Hannah, and hug it tightly to your chest.

"I'm sorry," you sob. "I tried, I really did. But I just can't save you."

You curl up into a ball on your bed, and finally start to accept that the past cannot be changed.


End file.
